


Curveballs

by jordazfen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5059927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordazfen/pseuds/jordazfen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And I can't, I can't keep, keeping up with these curveballs<br/>And the more I try the more my back's against the wall<br/>And I can't, I can't keep, keeping up with these curveballs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curveballs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> So, this is a fic I have written on Wattpad (sorry there is no smut but I wasn't really into that when I wrote this but who knows I might be more into it now and add it later on!?!?) anyway, I am happy to finally be transferring it to a secondary platform after it's success, currently with 17,000 reads on Wattpad, which is a huge deal considering I was bored and decided to write a chapter to a fic...!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic, I look forward to finally sharing it here! :):)  
> Updates should be fairly regular as it is pre-written however, I'm in the process of changing all 27 chapters of POV and 1st person writing into 3rd (which is totally annoying god damn me from April) so I should be okay for the time being :)

_‘The ground… that’s the dream’_

And that was the truth. Clarke Griffin thought about this every time she drew the rolling green meadows or the infinite deserts her father had once told her about many bed time stories ago.

Drawing on the hard of the cell wall was an escape from the daily hell she lived in. The same hell that ate at her emotions every single night, every single month for the entirety of her lockup. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw _him,_ her father. His body being flung from the air lock and into the depths of space, his eyes sorry and glassy as he was dragged into oblivion.

And the same fate was awaiting Clarke.

The resources that kept the last of the human race alive for 97 years were finally running out, and sooner than expected. Every crime, not matter how small, how insignificant was punishable by death. Unless, of course, you were under the age of 18, then you were locked up until your case was reviewed, usually having only one outcome.

She had a few months left at most. Locking her up for ‘treason’? Bullshit. They were just trying to keep her quiet.

She lay on the stiff mattress, wondering what it would be like to fly like the majestic animals that once lived on Planet Earth, then the grim reality set in that sooner or later, she would be pushed from the nest and forced to fly into space.

Her eyes flew open at the commotion from beyond her cell door. Immediately, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat upright, intently focusing on the shouts and commands that imposed on her deep train of thought.

_They’re floating us all, they need to save oxygen. A mass culling is the only way to do it._

She started to run scenarios in her head. You get good at that sort of thing after spending nine months with little to no contact.

‘Prisoner 139, get up and face the wall.’ The door swung open, making a loud bang as it hit the stone wall, two guards (who, by their expressions, had been in this job for far too long) stormed in accompanied by the ruckus from outside that had considerably increased in volume.

Her eyes flitted to the small, metal cylinder in one of the guards’ hand whilst images of her father played over and over in her mind. “I’m not eighteen yet… what is that? Has my case been reviewed early?” She nodded her head towards the silver object as her arm was twisted behind her back, a yelp escaping Clarke’s lips.

“No please,” she pleading as the guard attempted to undo the watch on her wrist, struggling through the thick gloves. “It was my fathers… please.” It only came out as a whisper, but the guard heard her. Whether he was tired of teenagers or sympathetic of her situation, he didn’t show it as he signalled the other guard with his eyes.

A searing pain pulsed up her arm as the silver band was fastened onto her free wrist, a combination of all her flu shots she had ever had and then some.  Whatever was going on, Clarke knew it would be useless to struggle against the two men who towered over her, so she allowed them to escort her out of the cell, saying a silent goodbye to what had become her home.

She looked across the Sky Box, teens of all ages were wrestling against the guards, some were crying as they were dragged away to Alpha Station, others screamed whilst many of them walked in silence, all awaiting their unknown fate.

What that fate was, however, was the only question on Clarke’s mind.

“Clarke!?” Her familiar voice drifted down the hallway, soothing Clarke’s quickening heartbeat.  
“Mom!” She swung round as the guards were fastening the cuffs on her wrists, grunting when the sudden movement made it more difficult than it already was. “What’s going on, what is this?” her tone was hurried, as if she only had moments to spare. “They’re floating us aren’t they…” Clarke’s mind zoned out and focused on a girl, no more than fourteen with two French braids being carried away from her cell.

“Clarke listen to me! You’re going to Earth Clarke.” The words brought Clarke back to herself, focussing on her mother’s wide smile at the new, exciting turn of events in The Ark’s short history. Her body froze up. _She_ was going to Earth. All the smells that she had never breathed, all the textures she had never felt, the colours she had never seen were all becoming real. “You have the chance to live Clarke.”

Clarke’s smile soon dropped as her mother started to talk. “I’m not coming sweetie, understand me? You’re on your own.” Abigail Griffin started to fix her daughters braid as if she was going to school, or perhaps on a date, not a mission to a radiation soaked planet which would ultimately lead to her death. "Be a good girl, your instinct will tell you to look after others. But I need you to survive. I will be in Earth Monitoring with Jackson and Sinclair tracking the wristbands. We have audio and visual in the drop ship. We'll be with you the whole time."

She planted a kiss on Clarke’s forehead before spinning on her heels and walking away. That was it, all she got from her mother was advice and a kiss.

“Mom!” She called over and over again into a now empty hallway, wrestling against the heavy guards as best as she could before her vision went soft and hazy, her thoughts filling with a type of fuzzy darkness that wouldn’t let her think straight.

“Seat 67, it’s on the second floor. Strap her in nice and tightly, you’ll be the one getting hell for it if one of the privileged kids died first.” One of the guards chuckled as he let go of Clarke’s arm and handed her to the other guard.

“Yes sir, don’t worry, my standards aren’t slipping just yet!”

“Careful, you might get demoted to a janitor if Shumway hears you giving me that kind of cheek.”

Clarke listened to the banter between the two men. Unfortunately, the drug she was given didn’t knock you out, only dulled your senses. The guard commanded her to walk even though she felt like all the energy she had left had be abandoned at the spot where her mother wished her goodbye.

_The ground… That’s the dream._

Her dream was finally coming true. Unfortunatley, it seemed like a hellish nightmare.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr: delinquentsoftheground  
> And read the full story first on wattpad: jordazfen


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